


Hells Bells

by booktick



Category: Deadwood
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Joanie deserves better, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 13:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10991871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booktick/pseuds/booktick
Summary: Cy wants to know how Joanie's doing.





	Hells Bells

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of this franchise.
> 
> A/N: Cy's cruel. Who knew?

* * *

Cy Tolliver slammed the glass down with more force than needed. He was half sober and it was barely noon. To be quite honest, he gave zero fucks on the matter at hand. He looked from his empty bottle to the door, leaning back in his seat.

"Joanie." He said the name real soft at first.

"Joanie, get your ass in here!" Then louder

Cy was growing impatient. He had it in his right mind to go looking for the girl, but instead he yanked another bottle out. His lips pressed together again. Fingers twisted the top of the bottle.

"Joanie, Joanie!" He mocked her name, like was singing it.

Cy took a gulp from his bottle, eyes off the door for a split second. When Cy looked again, the blond was walking in. He pulled the drink from his lips, watching her. Joanie sighed, hand on the door handle.

"What is it, Cy?"

There was a long silence before Tolliver smiled at her "You look good, Joanie."

Joanie let go of the door and walked a few steps closer. She was wearing blue today…brought out those big ol' eyes of hers and those eyes were like sapphires.

He chuckled some, mostly to himself. His legs moved, though he remained in the chair. One hand on the bottle, and the other in his lap. That agonizing stare focused right on Ms. Sapphires.

Cy nodded to the empty chair "Go on now. Have a seat. You must be positively exhausted. Those legs won't be able to hold out for long, Joanie." A wicked grin.

Joanie had on some nice pairing of earrings on, didn't she? He knows exactly how she got those, hell, all of Deadwood, if not the world, knew that. He watched her move though, like he done for years. Cy saw that glint in her eyes, the way she looked at him like he was the monster under the bed and in the dark, the one waiting for her to slip up. Joanie would do that all on her own anyway.

She rolled her eyes but sat nonetheless. He saw that nice sized necklace locked around her throat, pretty little thing just like her. His eyes flickered up to her face, watching the lips and the eyes. One could tell a lot by watching those, couldn't they? Just ask Joanie. Joanie read people like a fuckin' book…but ever since Deadwood, Joanie had been slippin' some.

"What do you want, Cy?" Joanie tried to get to the point again.

So like her, always trying to get to the climax before the ride up. She must have hated parks then. His Joanie was a mountin' sort of gal, in and out within record time.

He chuckled some, "Oh, me, Joanie? Why ya gotta think I always want something from you?"

Cy lifted the bottle, drinking right out of it instead of pouring a glass. Not that he did that earlier.

"Because it's you. And I know you." Joanie replied softly.

"You know me, Joanie?" Cy glanced over at her, past his bottle of favorites "You know me? Hm?"

He saw that look in her eyes, that uneasiness she so desperately thought she kept well hidden inside her. The only good thing Joanie was able to hide inside her were money and jewels.

"Calm down, Cy. I was just makin' talk. You know that…"

Cy nodded some, one hand still around the throat of the bottle "Yeah, Joanie, honey. I knew that." He assured her softly but those eyes of his grew a bit too dark for her liking.

"Joanie, what do you do when you're not out…fuckin'?" He tilted his head some.

He picked at his pants a bit, still gripping onto that bottle like it was the hero of his life. Cy didn't even glance at Joanie, but he knew she wasn't happy with his question.

"Is this all you called me in for, Cy?"

Cy Tolliver stood up, walking around his desk in a steady matter. He let himself go for a moment, the headache that was brewing.

His fingers brushed some of her loose curls, the back of her neck "You know I just like to compliment my girl. Let her know how much she means to me. You know that, don'tcha, Joanie?"

"Yeah, Cy." Joanie spoke softly "I know."

Did she? Joanie was a complicated gal. He brushed his knuckles along her jaw, feeling her warmth as long as he could. Cy looked away, another heavy sigh, and walked back over to the window. There wasn't much happening in camp, huh?

"You happy, Joanie?" He took a swig of his bottle.

Cy watched the townfolk below hustle on by, and scatter about like fuckin' cats. He shook his head.

"Yeah, Cy. I"m always happy." Joanie lied.

Cy chuckled some, "Sure ya are, Joanie," Cy downed his bottle time.

He smacked his lips after he swallowed, looking back at her "We're all happy when we're dead inside."

Cy smiled at her. It seemed his Joanie didn't like that all that much 'cause when she made a face, he looked away, and sighed.

"Get out." He glanced at the empty bottle in his grip.

"Cy—"

The bottle smashed in pieces at her feet.

"What part of get out, didn't you get, in that thick blond curly head of yours, Joanie, honey? When Cy says get out, you—?"

He tilted his head some, leaning in closer and closer until she felt the hot breath on her cheek. She hadn't flinched at all when the bottle hit, girl had learned through the years what to expect when Cy Tolliver was having a scene, huh?

"I get out." She whispered.

"That's right, Joanie." He spoke softly, like a lover might.

Then with a quick kiss to her head, he practically shoved her head to the side, fingers ran through her locks of hair. Cy walked back over to the balcony this time, hand up on the door frame. His eyes still red, puffy like he'd been crying earlier.

But Joanie got up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress and left Cy. She was always leaving Cy. Cy sometimes found his pathetic ass wishing he could be Joanie. His fucking Joanie.


End file.
